


new york city, where all your girls are pretty

by theamazingpeterparker



Series: atlantic hearts [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gender or Sex Swap, Holidays, Long-Distance Relationship, New York City, cisgirl!ziall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 13:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3490349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamazingpeterparker/pseuds/theamazingpeterparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They split a Sprite and eat their slices on the walk home, something they did at least once a week during the summer but never this late and never this cold, Zayn’s laughter doesn’t ring out quite as clear in the city but Niall feels it reverberate in her chest just the same.</i>
</p><p> Or, Niall visits Zayn in New York City over winter break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	new york city, where all your girls are pretty

**Author's Note:**

> this is a part 2 to the little summer ziall fic i wrote! disclaimer that I know very little about New York City so this is all thanks to google maps and some shit I made up.
> 
> always shouting out to clare for reassuring me that anything i write isn't awful.
> 
>  
> 
> title is from "New York City" by Amoung Savages.

Zayn can see Niall from where she’s waiting on the second floor of Grand Central, texted her twice _i am literally standing at the top of the main staircase waiting, dummy_ and then _i see you, stop looking at new york brochures and come see me_ but she leaves her messages to that. Settles for watching her girlfriend marvel at the interior of the station, standing in the middle of the lobby below and looking like a goddamn tourist in her worn Cubs hat and backpack over one shoulder. Wearing actual sneakers and holding a handful of brochures already and Zayn decides to go rescue her so she doesn’t get pickpocketed before she leaves the building.

Niall turns to face her before Zayn can try and grab her sides, grins like july even though it’s december. “You didn’t really think I didn’t see you up there, did you?” she’s laughing into the hug, presses the rest of her sentence into Zayn’s scarf, “you and your fuckin’ bambi eyes glaring me down, felt it as soon as i got off the train.”

Zayn gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, tugs the duffel bag out of Niall’s grasp and starts towards the exit before the other girl can try to protest.

Niall’s already humming _New York, New York_ by the time Zayn hails them a cab, rattles off her address in West Village and doesn’t put a hand over Niall’s mouth until they’ve crept back into traffic.

“I have a whole playlist for this,” Niall whines after she bites Zayn’s palm, moves to get her phone out of her pocket. Her wallpaper a snapchat from Zayn of her apartment window in the snow before she unlocks it, shows Zayn her comprehensive playlist titled “New York City Serenade.”

Zayn rolls her eyes affectionately and it’s something Niall’s missed, weirdly, sees it at least twice a week on their Facetime dates but seeing it in person after three months evokes an impulse that’s strong enough for Niall to act on it, leans across the seat and kisses Zayn’s jaw, can’t quite reach her mouth. The cabbie glances back at them but Zayn’s mouth just tips into a smirk, reaches over and rests her hand on Niall’s thigh. Tucks a finger into the rip in her jeans just above her knee.

Zayn’s roommate isn’t home, has class for another few hours, which Zayn explains over her shoulder as she moves to throw Niall’s duffel bag into her bedroom and Niall shouts back from the kitchen, “good, tell Liam I said hi and tell her to bring home some real food.”

“We have ramen and beer, that _is_ real food,” Zayn pouts as she rounds the corner into the kitchen, squeaks in surprise when she’s greeted with a full kiss from Niall, of course, finally, _took you long enough_ , sweet and soft.

“Ramen and beer is only real food to _art kids_.”

“Says the girl who lives on curly fries and pizza for eight months out of the year?”

Niall just hums at that, pinches Zayn’s side as she backs her up against the counter. Zayn’s shirt already rucked up past her hips with Niall’s hands pressed warm against her belly, tastes like strawberry bubble gum and salt.

“You got a new one,” Niall murmurs quietly when her hands abandon Zayn’s torso to move up and cup her jaw, pinky finger knocking against the piercings in Zayn’s ears, a new industrial bar through the left one. “Anything else new?”

Zayn doesn’t answer but instead moves her hands down Niall’s back, hesitates at the base of her spine until Niall gets the message, jumps and wraps her legs around Zayn’s waist so she can walk them to her bedroom.

They don’t get any farther than Zayn getting her shirt off, Liam’s texting incessantly _what should i get for dinner / how was niall’s trip in / what are you two doing / whyyy arnt you ansering meeeee / get me out of this lecturee e e e :(_ and Zayn taps out replies while Niall settles for kissing each of her tattoos, refamiliarizing herself what she already knows so well even though the skin is paler and cooler than it was during the summer. Something about the ink under her skin and how the ocean looks darker in the winter, too.

Niall raids Zayn’s closet before Liam gets home with dinner, finds absolutely nothing practical for Manhattan in December.

“Did you honestly wear this outside?” Niall asks exasperatedly, holds up a red velvet crop top that’s laying on the floor of Zayn’s closet and Zayn shrugs, “it has long sleeves, doesn’t it?”

It’s Niall’s turn to roll her eyes but she drops it before it can turn into their age-old argument, _aesthetic over climate conditions_ because this is the same girl who wore Doc Martens and mesh shirts over bikini tops in the middle of August in Cape May. It’s a miracle when she finds an old NYU crewneck stuffed in the back of Zayn’s underwear drawer, cigarette burns in the sleeves but it fits and smells like her.

Liam bounces across the apartment when Niall comes out of the bedroom, wraps her into a hug without hesitation and says, “you must be Niall,” which is exactly what Zayn predicted that Liam would say an hour before she got home. “Hope you like Chinese?”

Liam doesn’t bother them much, whether Zayn asked her for privacy already or Liam just knows on instinct. After they portion out the takeaway boxes Liam retreats to her room down the hall, waving off with some excuse about an anatomy final and wishing Niall and Zayn a goodnight.

“You done with your finals, then?” Niall asks as they tuck themselves onto the couch, Zayn pulling a _Star Wars_ blanket over both of them and stealing a bite of Niall’s lo mein.

“Done two days ago. All the more time to show you my city,” Zayn teases, jabs Niall’s cheek with her chopstick. “But I will _not_ take you to Times Square _._ ”

Zayn takes her to Times Square because Niall doesn’t shut up about it, chases Zayn around the apartment yelling about it the next morning and then sits outside the bathroom door singing _I know what I’m needing, and I don’t want to waste more time, I’m in a New York state of mind_ at the top of her lungs while Zayn showers.

“Christ, _fine_ ,” Zayn huffs when she pulls open the door, toothbrush in her mouth and hair up in a towel but her eyes are smiling, “get dressed, you child.”

Times Square is some sort of controlled chaos as it always is and Zayn is grumpy through all of it, lets Niall lead her through the crowds towards M&M World. “Thought a starfish like you would want to see, like, Coney Island--” Zayn starts as Niall’s scooping a heap of green M&Ms into a bag and Niall’s head snaps up, mouth opening to say something but Zayn’s already shaking her head, “no! No, we are not going to Coney Island in December. I thought it was _my_ turn to show you _my_ turf,” and Niall just flicks a candy at her and disappears giggling into the mass of crowds in the store, leaving Zayn to follow.

Niall gives up on Times Square relatively quickly after they leave the candy store, tries to keep Zayn’s fingers in one hand and her two pounds of M&Ms in the other but gets jostled hard when they try maneuvering the sidewalk and for the first time Niall feels a flush of panic, grips Zayn’s hand a little tighter and the other girl squeezes back in response, and then there’s a change in her. Something Niall’s never seen but it’s obviously how Zayn must be most days in the city, stands up straighter and tows Niall along with her, walking with a purpose and pushing past people firmly enough that Niall follows easily in her wake. The crowds are much thinner two blocks away, heading south and they walk for a while until Niall’s cheeks aren’t so pink anymore, offers Zayn a handful of M&Ms as a silent _thanks_. “Can we go drink tonight?” Niall half-laughs into Zayn’s shoulder when they finally squeeze into a seat on the subway and Zayn replies with a laugh twice as loud, buries it into Niall’s hair and nods.

They go to Johnny’s and Niall is glued to Zayn’s side but after two cosmos is bickering with the man next to them at the bar about the Yankee’s spring training, lets it slip that she’s from southern New Jersey and is immediately mocked for being from Jersey and Niall just stands her ground firm. Keeps one arm around Zayn’s waist and using the other to wave her hand around to make her point about _doesn’t matter where I’m from, everyone knows A-Rod was juicing and should’ve gotten suspended for it--_ and that’s when Zayn has to steer Niall away, presses another cosmo into her hand and says against her ear, “trash-talking a Yankee in the middle of Manhattan isn’t one of your best decisions, babe,” and Niall rolls her eyes, leans heavily into Zayn and grumbles, “Yeah, but we’re not in the _middle_ of Manhattan, we’re in the _west_ _village_ of it…”

Zayn’s either not as drunk as Niall when they’re getting ready to leave or she sobers up quickly enough when the cold night hits them, almost two when the bar starts thinning out and Zayn wants to get a cab but Niall shakes her head, rests her forehead on Zayn’s shoulder and mutters about _too drunk for a car ride_ , _innit only a few blocks_?

Zayn sets her jaw but eventually agrees, nods curtly and wraps one arm through Niall’s elbow and positions her keys in her knuckles in the other hand, walks almost too briskly for Niall to keep up even though it’s only five or six blocks back to her place. Zayn almost tows Niall across the crosswalk but Niall stops firmly, tugs Zayn’s hand hard until she turns to look at her. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Zayn looks like she’s turning her answer over in her head, torn over answering because she doesn’t want to answer but also because she knows that Niall’s not going to budge until Zayn talks.

“Liam and I went out on my 21st,” she explains in an exhale, tugs at Niall who takes it as a sign that she’ll explain as they walk, “I got really trashed, obviously, and when we were walking back to our place a guy followed us for four blocks. And then last year Liam got mugged on the subway. I just don’t like staying out late here, is all.” She brushes her thumb along the back of Niall’s hand, frowns deeply as they round the corner to where the apartment building is. Niall’s quiet as they get inside, headed straight back to Zayn’s room after grabbing a few bottles of water and the bag of Doritos from the kitchen.

“You remember when we stayed out in Ocean City? Until sunrise?” Niall asks once they’re settled in Zayn’s bed, Niall pressing her forehead up against the cold glass of Zayn’s window. Something she falls asleep seeing every night and Niall’s only ever seen through snapchat, skype sessions. “I miss that.”

Zayn hums and then meets Niall’s eyes and whispers _me too_.

And her voice is sad enough that Niall can't help herself, crawls/trips off the bed and over the the shelf above Zayns dresser where her summer jar is. She pours its contents onto the bed between them and Zayn doesn't protest, not even when the sand from the bottom of the jar spills onto her comforter. Zayn sits quietly but picks up a snail shell and holds it close to her face, inhales deep.

"There's something new," Zayn says after a few minutes of silently going through the shells and tokens and trinkets, and Nialls still drunk enough that she has no idea what Zayn's talking about, still caught mid-laugh over a pair of broken sunglasses that Zayn's kept.

Zayn shifts on the bed, goes to pull her jeans off and Nialls laughter resumes as they both wrestle the black skinny jeans off. She's only quiet when Zayn tugs the side of her underwear down to show Niall a starfish tattoo spread across her hip. It's her only color tattoo, oranges and yellows and pinks with blue shades at the edges. Niall doesn't have anything to say, and probably wouldn't even if she was sober. Can only think to lean down and kiss it.

Niall’s almost drowning in Zayn’s sheets the next morning, caught between the comforter and the four fleece blankets they’ve dragged into the room since Niall’s gotten here. She reaches blindly to the nightstand in hopes of finding something to drink and there’s a bottle of water from last night and next to it, a bottle of Hawaiian Punch and a package of peanut butter crackers; Niall’s foolproof Hangover Cure, and a 7-11 bag on the floor that she steps on on her way out of bed.

They've got the apartment to themselves for the rest of Nialls’ stay, Liam headed home to Syracuse for the holidays but Niall’s around for another week before she’s going to take the train back to Jersey. Zayn’s obviously been up for a while, has her iHome speaker playing loud enough that Niall can hear it even through the bathroom door while she showers. It's Niall's New York playlist, which means Zayn snatched her phone while she was still sleeping, but she can't bring herself to be all that annoyed.

Zayn "making breakfast" means going across the street to 7-11 and picking up a box of donuts and new coffee filters but she counts it as a victory because it's only 11:43, therefore before noon, _therefore it counts as breakfast, okay?_ and they split a powdered donut on the living room couch and put their mugs down without coasters because _Liam's not here, so we're going to live the high life_ while watching the Harry Potter marathon that's on.

"So where today?" Niall asks thickly, still trying to speak around the sticky dough and Zayn laughs even though her mouth is equally coated with the powdered sugar.

"Was thinking of taking you on a museum loop," she says with a shrug, side-eyes Niall. "that or a ferry ride to the Statue of Liberty, but it's only twenty degrees out."

Niall scrunches up her face, has wasted enough years spending New Year's Eve at shore town parties to know that being on the water in December is not worth it, no matter what the reason. Museums and Zayn’s student ID getting them discounts it is.

There's no jar of seashells for this trip, Niall realizes with a swell of sadness as they climb into the cab, and Niall’s never been one to take too many photos. Not that it’s a big deal, right now--they both know that when Niall leaves for Jersey she’s going to have at least two of Zayn’s sweaters and probably swipe one of the perfume bottles from her makeup counter when she packs up. It’s just the principle of it, she guesses. Makes a promise to buy an I <3 NYC shirt or something tacky before she leaves. Besides, Zayn’s hand clasped warm in hers as they climb out of the taxi at the MoMA is enough. Catches Zayn smiling before she buries her face deeper into her scarf and pulls Niall right into the lobby, cheeks and nose immediately warming as they step in from the cold.

Niall’s hit with the flashback of the two of them in Atlantic City at the Ripleys Believe It Or Not museum, how it took them almost three hours to go through because Zayn insisted on reading every display. It's too late, though, Zayn’s already handing her a ticket and unfolding the map.

"Uh," Niall half-laughs, gives Zayn a guilty pout. "I might have picked the ferry if I had remembered how awful you are in museums."

Zayn barks a laugh that bounces around the lobby of the building, offers no consolation as she heads them to the first wing other than calling over her shoulder, "I've been here seven times. We can be quick."

The first Pollock painting they come across, Zayn is already blabbering about it before they're even in front of it, and Niall’s only half-listening. When Zayn pauses, Niall jumps on it, points to a particular swirl of paint on the canvas and says, "well, okay, but have you considered that that part there looks like a dick?"

She says it just loud enough to draw stares from the family closest and Zayn narrows her eyes at Niall and then at the painting. Breathes _shit, you're right_ and then they're laughing, trying to muffle it into each other's shoulders and hands.

All of Zayn’s precious art history studies are gone from then on, Niall's way of reminding her not to take herself too seriously as they both take selfies mimicking Lichtenstein's comic girl expressions. They're through the whole museum in two hours.

It’s nearly forty-five degrees that weekend which is reason enough to celebrate, warm enough after weeks of twenties and under that they’re both comfortable going for a walk. Zayn shows Niall her academic buildings, wandering around the NYU campus and having drinks with some of Zayn’s friends who are still in the city. They’re all shocked that Niall actually exists, two drinks in and Zayn’s red up to her ears and doesn’t bother defending herself against the teasing she gets. Niall catches Zayn staring at her the drunker she gets, has her chin propped up in one hand looking over at Niall curiously but throws a peanut at Perrie when she says _Niall, swear to God, the way Zayn talked about you when she came back in the fall, we thought she was making you up._

It’s nearly midnight when they start back to Zayn’s apartment and Zayn’s on Niall’s back, directing her down the streets with her breath warm against the back of Niall’s neck. They’re in a part of the village that Niall’s not familiar with, frowns deeply when Zayn shouts _Stop!_ in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Where--?” Niall starts as Zayn falls off Niall’s back, shoulders her in the direction of the storefront across the street, _Moonsheen Tattoo_.

“Chris!” Zayn almost-yells when they walk inside, not much of a crowd other than a few frat boys getting tattooed and another few girls flipping through the flash art on the tables in the lobby.

A man comes out from the back, grins when he sees Zayn and comes to shake her hand. “Hey, Zayn.”

“You remember my starfish? Yeah?” And Zayn’s still tipsy enough that she’s still clingy, wraps an arm around Niall’s shoulder. “Here she is.”

Chris smirks like he’s in on a secret, shakes Niall’s hand too. “What brings you in tonight, then?”

Zayn pauses, cocks her head in Niall’s direction. “Wanna get something else for her.” She gives Niall a side-glance, one of her stubborn looks that says _you can disagree but it’s not going to stop me_ , but Niall’s still trying to process this, just stutters out in amazement, “can I watch?”

It takes a bit for Zayn to convince Chris she’s sober enough to make this decision, fills out the forms and Chris lets them both into one of the back booths, already has Zayn’s request drawn out. It’s a little wave, black and blue and white and Zayn’s already pulling off her jacket and hoodie, makes pointed eyecontact with Niall when she takes off the tanktop underneath and tells Chris that she wants it on her side, just under where her bra rests. Niall is blushing so hard she feels like she’s sunburned in july again, fiddles with the zipper of Zayn’s jacket she has in her lap as Zayn lays out on her side on the table and Chris plasters on the template.

Zayn closes her eyes and Niall feels less intrusive as she watches Zayn’s ribcage swell with each deep breath she takes. Feels weird that she’s seeing this happen somewhere that isn’t a bedroom, or catnapping on the beach in the sun. Feels fucking grateful that she’s allowed to be seeing this. It’s not that she was unaware of Zayn’s tendency to get tattoos for people, it just hasn’t really hit that this is for Niall. It’s just how Zayn is so good at keeping parts of people for herself, shells or tattoos or letters and Niall doesn’t know how to remember anything, has never collected anything in her life and doesn’t want to ever forget this trip, but doesn’t know how she’s going to remember it, either.

“Alright,” Chris says after fifteen minutes, wipes Zayn’s side and helps her sit up. She’s twisting and peering down at it before Chris can even get her the mirror, and when she finally sees it she just _beams_ , looks up to find Niall’s eyes immediately. There’s no shame in this blatant display of love that she’s just done.

Chris is bandaging the wave up, giving a rundown of aftercare in a bored tone that suggests that he and Zayn have been through this routine a few times before. Zayn gets her shirt back on and comes over to where Niall’s sitting holding her jackets, pecks Niall quick on the cheek as she starts digging for her wallet and in that moment Niall breathes, “I want one.”

Zayn stills as soon as she says it, pulls back just enough to look her in the eye. “You mean it?” she asks, eyes still bright with adrenaline and excitement. Something tells Niall that even if she _didn’t_ mean it, Zayn wouldn’t care that much. Live in the moment, or whatever.

“Chris,” Niall asks over Zayn’s shoulder, carefully shrugs off her own coat. “Can you. Uh. Draw something out for me, I guess?”

Zayn steps out to pay for hers at the reception desk and comes back to Niall on the table, shirtless with a template in the same spot that Zayn’s had been on her ribs. Zayn scrunches up her face, pulls her chair up next to the table so she can look.

“It’s gonna hurt like a bitch,” Zayn says lightly, can’t seem to stop smiling when she sees the purple outline of the New York City skyline waiting on the side of Niall’s ribs.

“I’m tough. And still a little drunk,” Niall scoffs back, but when Chris comes back over with the tattoo gun and asks “ready?” Niall has to reach her hand out and Zayn takes it, gives it a squeeze. Niall flinches when the needle first touches down but keeps her eyes trained on Zayn, who keeps looking from Niall’s face back to the tattoo and it’s the biggest she’s smiled since Niall first arrived at Grand Central.

It’s over twenty minutes later, Zayn’s adrenaline starting to trail off but Niall’s jumpy as Chris has her bandaged up, kisses Zayn full on the mouth as soon as they’re out of the tattoo shop and throws her arms around around her tight, careful not to jostle each other in the sides too much.

“You hungry?” Zayn mutters against Niall’s mouth, they still taste like cheap beer and bar peanuts and Niall starts nodding before Zayn finishes the question.

Bleeker Street Pizza is right around the corner from the tattoo shop and it’s still crowded despite the fact that it’s almost two in the morning. Zayn and Niall make friendly small talk with the drunk couple in line behind them while they wait, the man swearing that “we’ve heard great reviews about this place, heard it’s the best pizza in New York,” and Zayn doesn’t mention that she comes here at least twice a week, and Niall doesn’t pick a fight about how _New York and Jersey Shore pizza are pretty much the same thing_ , just politely smiling and nodding and trying not to jitter too much with how cold their hands are and how sore their new tattoos are under their coats. They split a Sprite and eat their slices on the walk home, something they did at least once a week during the summer but never this late and never this cold, Zayn’s laughter doesn’t ring out quite as clear in the city but Niall feels it reverberate in her chest just the same.

Niall starts cursing immediately upon waking up the next morning, moves to scratch at her side but Zayn catches her hand before she can. Leads her into the cramped bathroom and Niall sits patiently on the sink as Zayn peels the gauze off her side, reaches around Niall’s head into the medicine cabinet for a jar of lotion. Zayn’s hands are cold but it feels good on Niall’s red patch of skin around her tattoo, lets out a soft whine of relief as Zayn swipes the lotion gently around the tattoo before she laughs and says _okay, my turn_ and pulls off her shirt, Niall trying to be just as gentle when she kneads lotion into Zayn’s fresh ink.

Zayn donates her tattoo-lotion to Niall’s suitcase that weekend as she packs up with the argument of _your tattoo is bigger and also you’re a huge baby_. Niall doesn’t have to steal any of Zayn’s sweaters because Zayn’s already folding two up, her NYU crewneck and an old _I <3 NYC_ t-shirt that she usually sleeps in, drops them in Niall’s bag without a fight. Niall still takes a half-full bottle of perfume from Zayn’s dresser. They take more photos on the subway ride to Grand Central than they did the whole trip, all of them blurry except for one of Zayn kissing Niall’s cheek and Niall caught mid-laugh, trying to take the photo and turn her head to Zayn at the same time.

They’re smiling too much to cry when Zayn walks Niall to her terminal but they hug for a long time, Zayn kisses her and mumbles _be good, text me when you get home._ Hands Niall the handful of brochures they both picked out of the tourism kiosk while waiting for Niall’s train. If it was anyone else, anywhere else, Niall would have thrown the brochures out when she got home. They both know this, and even though Zayn would have kept them, she doesn’t expect Niall to. Zayn doesn’t seem that bothered by the fact that Niall still doesn’t know quite how to keep their memories together. And up until now, Niall’s never felt the need to keep parts of moments that she wants to remember. But with a camera roll full of photos, a bottle of perfume, old sweatshirt, and museum tickets tucked into the side pocket of her bag, and a new tattoo itching on her side, she thinks now is a good time to start.


End file.
